


Give a Little

by elliebird



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:36:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22686355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliebird/pseuds/elliebird
Summary: Set during the TK/Carlos dinner scene that was cut from episode one 1x05.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes (9-1-1 Lone Star)/TK Strand
Comments: 11
Kudos: 269





	Give a Little

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Ess Cee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsidiousIntent/pseuds/InsidiousIntent) for being the best writing buddy, and for the prompt.

TK ends his twenty-four hour shift while it’s still light out. 

The guy he’s sort of, maybe, seeing wants to cook him dinner. Again. Despite TK royally fucking it up the first time. 

Where they stand is all very vague. TK takes the blame for it. Carlos is _Mr. Right_ , at a time in TK’s life when all he’s looking for is _Mr. You’ll Do_ , if not _Mr. Right Now_. 

But Carlos is making a sincere effort to meet TK where he is. So TK agreed to a second try at dinner, putting in more effort than he has into anything but his job since he and his dad arrived in Austin. 

TK showers at the station and thinks about cancelling. The memory of heartache on Paul’s face is hard to shake. 

In the months since Owen began putting the team together, TK’s started to feel like he comes to work every day with his brothers and sisters. 

He feels a weird, hollow guilt when he thinks about the hope and spark diminished in Paul after Josie’s visit. 

It’s an excuse in a handful of excuses. Down where the urge to chase that old familiar high lives, there’s an insistent fear that TK is not - and will never be - good enough for Carlos. 

He closes his eyes and mouths the prayer his first sponsor ever taught him. Sometimes it helps and sometimes it makes him feel like a fraud. Tonight, it steadies the uneasiness he feels. He dresses in a button-down and his nicest pair of jeans, puts on a little cologne and spends a few minutes messing with his hair. 

His therapist has told him he should spend time doing things he enjoys. 

“Find a hobby,” she’d suggested. 

TK doesn’t have time for hobbies. But he’s working on getting back to being happy, and Carlos could make him happy. If he let him. 

Austin traffic is less of a nightmare than fighting Midtown on a Tuesday at rush hour but it takes twenty minutes to get from the station to the quiet neighborhood where Carlos lives. 

TK parks at the curb. A dinner date is a little more serious than TK was looking for. He and Alex were together long enough that TK feels rusty at the dating thing. 

When he shakes himself out of it and makes it up the stairs, Carlos answers the door, looking like he didn’t just get off an endless shift of his own. He’s dressed in a green button-down and jeans that fit him like a second skin. TK’s seen him wear them once before. He loves the way they cling to Carlos’s ass, highlighting the definition in his thighs and the work Carlos puts in. 

“Damn,” TK says with a shake of his head. He bites his lip and gives Carlos a shameless once over. Office Reyes is fucking fine. Carlos might be the sexiest guy TK’s ever been with. He feels a little breathless, from the way Carlos looks at him, the way he greets him with a smile like he’s never seen anything better. 

“What a greeting,” Carlos says with a smile. TK hooks a finger in the waist of Carlos’s jeans and leans ins, tilting his chin up for a kiss. He’s more comfortable with a fuck and a “see you later,” than what Carlos is offering. It’s the aftermath of a relationship he thought was headed towards marriage but ended in a cliche of heartbreak. 

They meet somewhere in the middle, TK reigning in his need to push Carlos against the door and take this to the bedroom and Carlos deepening the kiss with a hand at the back of TK’s neck and his tongue at the seam of his lips. 

Carlos smells like he just stepped out of the shower, like mint and lemon and that sexy aftershave he favors. TK’s exhausted, a little distracted, but he could get lost in the careful way Carlos kisses him, like TK is something worth taking care of.

“Are you hungry?” Carlos asks, stepping back to let TK in. 

This time, Carlos called him. “Are you free tonight?” He asked. “I still want to cook for you.” And then, with a smile in his voice he’d said, “no fish this time.”

TK does his best to shake off the lingering memory of the last time Carlos cooked for him, when TK showed up in sweats, looking for a booty call. 

“I could eat,” TK says with a teasing smile, knowing Carlos well enough at this point to know he’s spent the better part of the last hour in the kitchen, cooking for him. TK’s trying to get used to this. Carlos’s attention, his affection, is not something TK is comfortable with. Not anymore. 

Carlos made tamales. “No meat,” he said over the phone and TK’s reminded, again, of the way Carlos pays attention. TK spent a few years as a vegan and while he eats the turkey sausage Paul cooks for the team and the farm fresh eggs Judd hauls in on Mondays, he pays attention to what he puts into his body. 

This time, there’s no champagne. There’s a bowl of corn chips and a pair of unlit candles. 

TK still doesn’t know much about Carlos, but from the way Carlos enjoys cooking, the importance he puts on having a meal together, TK imagines family meals were a big part of Carlos’s life growing up. 

TK grew up sharing takeout with his dad, standing in the kitchen or in front of the television. Another in a list of the ways in which they differ. 

Carlos’s place smells like cilantro and cumin, roasted vegetables and garlic. TK takes his place across from Carlos and gives him a self-deprecating smile, a tilt of his head. “This feels familiar.” 

Carlos has a devastating smile. 

They eat. The food is delicious, full of flavor and TK can tell how much his enjoyment of it pleases Carlos. They make small talk but TK’s head is elsewhere. 

He keeps thinking about the set of Paul’s shoulders, the haunted pain in his eyes when he came back into the fire station. 

Maybe Paul was right. TK has led a mostly charmed existence, with the privilege of his skin color, cis gender and genetics. He has someone who wants to date him, wants to be with him, even with the ugly side of his addiction. 

“TK,” Carlos says, pulling TK’s attention back to the moment. “Everything okay?” 

TK looks up from his plate. He can’t shake the feeling that he should be doing something, _anything_ for Paul. 

“You seem distracted.” Carlos puts his fork down. 

“Yeah.” TK shakes his head. “No, yeah, everything’s fine.” There’s nothing convincing about it. 

“We can talk about it, if you want,” Carlos says carefully, interested but doing his best not to push. TK loves that about him. 

“It’s not really my problem to tell,” TK says, remembering what Paul had said about the rule of threes. 

“From the way it’s bothering you,” Carlos says, “It’s someone you care about.” 

It’s true. TK felt Josie’s rejection like it was his own. He watched helplessly, the way Paul’s armor came up, protecting himself again in a world hell bent on bringing him down. 

“You’ve met Paul,” TK starts. Carlos’s gentle understanding is why he ends up giving a shortened version of Paul’s date and the aftermath. 

“I just.” TK stops, trying to figure out how to say what he means. “I feel helpless.” There’s not a big enough word for what he feels. 

“I wish I could make it easier for him. Like, I don’t know.” He shakes his head ruefully. “Suddenly make the world not care that he’s trans.” Life as a firefighter and first responder has taught TK that life can be unfair and painfully cruel. Knowing Paul, coming to care about him and respect him, has made it more clear than ever. 

Carlos gets to his feet. “Let me ask you something.” He goes into the kitchen and TK takes in the stretch of denim across his hips, the flex of his thighs. He’s fucking beautiful.

“What would you do if this was one of your buddies and you were back home in New York?” Carlos sets a bottle of water on the table. It’s the brand of mineral water TK prefers. 

TK thinks about it. “We’d go out,” he says. “Somewhere in the village, where the music’s good.” He grins. “We’d dance, flirt, cause a little good trouble. Take his mind off of it.”

“Okay,” Carlos says. Instead of taking his seat, he steps up behind TK, leaning down to wrap both arms around him. “So let’s do that.” 

TK stills. “ _Let’s?_ ” 

“Yeah.” Carlos’s lips graze his jaw. “I know a place.” 

TK relaxes, gives into the urge to let Carlos hold him like this, if only for a second. He hesitates and then says, “I haven’t been out since before I relapsed.” The part of him ashamed of his addiction is grateful they aren’t face to face. 

Carlos tilts his head and kisses TK’s jaw. “I could be a distraction,” he says, his voice dropping low. It sends the sweetest shiver down TK’s spine. 

When TK doesn’t say anything, Carlos lets go. He takes his place across from him. “I like to dance,” he says easily, a smile in his eyes. “It’s been a minute since I had a dance partner.” 

He likes to dance, and the idea of going out with Carlos, dragging Paul with them in an attempt at distracting him - if not cheering him up - makes TK crack a smile. “Think you can keep up with me?” 

He’s rewarded with Carlos’s laugh, the way his eyes crease with the force of his grin, a pleased flush creeping down his throat. Fuck, he’s sexy. 

Carlos shakes his head. “I think the better question is, can you keep up with me?” 

TK leans back in his chair, taking in everything about Carlos from the flex of his forearms to the patch of skin where his shirt’s open at his throat. He remembers the way Carlos looked after him at the police station, his willingness to try again when TK made a mess of things. 

“I guess we’ll find out,” TK concedes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I'm on [Tumblr](https://elliebirdthings.tumblr.com/)


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